Kira the Third
by TronaRi05
Summary: An urban legend. Three years after Light Yagami was killed by Ryuk, that was all the legacy that was left of Kira.
1. Acquiring the Notebook

"So, have you heard of it?"

Hiro jerked slightly at the sudden sound of his friend's voice. He glanced up into the wondering, dark brown eyes and with a slight smile, he said, "Heard of what?"

Ayame rolled her eyes and sat back down on the top of her desk, "You know, that urban legend?"

When Hiro gave her another blank stare she let out an irritated sigh, "_Kira_? You know, that one guy from a few years back?"

"Which one?" questioned Hiro, returning to his daze as he stared at out the window.

"The original-obviously dumbo! And I don't mean the "second" Kira or that fake wannabe that killed old people," Ayame put the laptop in front of Hiro, forcing him to look at her, "I mean the real one."

"You keep saying that."

"Saying? Saying what?"

"The _real_ one. Didn't you say it was just an urban legend?" Hiro pointed out, looking up towards his friend. "If it's a legend then there isn't a real one."

Ayame rolled her eyes, plopping down into her chair, "Come one Hiro. We can't just ignore it. It _was_ real. There _was_ something there-punishing all those people!"

"Well if there was," Hiro shrugged, "which I'm sure there was, he's gone now. Isn't he? Or she. Whichever you prefer."

"…Yeah," Ayame nodded, picking up her bag as the last bell rang for the day, "but I sort of like to think that…there's still someone out there who'd be willing to take up his legacy."

Hiro let out a soft chuckle as he watched the rest of his class file out. " "Legacy", huh?"

Silence filled the room when the last of the students trickled out. Now it was onto club activities or hanging around friends. But Hiro? He didn't want to. In fact you could say he was…too lazy to?

By the time Hiro got down to the lockers, the school was near empty-except for the few students who stayed behind.

When he opened his locker to replace his shoes, he noticed something…odd. A notebook. A notebook safely tucked into his locker on top of his shoes.

Hiro glanced around, making sure no one was there. He pulled it form his locker and held it.

A noteblook as black as night with white words inscribed at the top in English.

"Death Note?" Hiro stared at it and mumbled, "Is this some dumb occult prank?"

Nonetheless, Hiro slipped the notebook into his bag and replaced his shoes. After a moment he closed the locker and began to walk out.

_ Death Note_.

Hiro found himself smiling a bit as he boarded the train. "Death Note"? If they wanted to pull a prank on Hiro, they should have done it more discreetly. Honestly, what was Hiro going to do with a notebook of Death? What did it entail?

A man left and everyone else was sitting. Hiro sat down in the man's spot and pulled out the notebook, careful so that it didn't fall and so that people wouldn't see the cover. For some reason…Hiro got a feeling it would be bad if someone saw him with it.

He slowly peeled back the front cover and read it.

_Death Note _

_How to Use_

_I _

_-The human whose name is written in this notebook shall die._

_-This note will note take effect unless the writer his this person's face in their mind when writing his or her name. Therefore, people sharing the same name will not be affected._

_-If the cause of death is written within the next 40 seconds of writing the person's name, it will happen_

_-If the cause of death is not specified, the person will simply die of a heart attack._

_-After writing the cause of death, details of the death should be written in the next 6 minutes and 40 seconds._

Hiro closed the notebook and sat back, calmly tucking it back into his school bag.

What kind of sick joke is that? A notebook where if you write the person's name, then that person dies? It's laughable to say the least but at the same time it is twisted.

"The most pathetic way to die," Hiro mumbled to himself.

"Is it?"

Hiro jumped slightly, surprised to get a response. He glanced to his left to find an…odd looking man.

This man was young, probably in his early twenties, with snowy white hair and large, curious gray eyes. He sat with a slight hunch and his hands kept fiddling with his hair, his shoes sat on the ground instead of having his feet in it. He wore a white outfit, matching his snowy complexion and white hair. His shirt hung off his hands slightly as did his pants, which would probably drag on the floor. And when he looked at Hiro, he had a strange twinkle in his eyes.

"Um…sorry, I was just thinking about a story I read earlier," Hiro said, waving the space next to his head.

"Oh, no, now I'm a bit curious," the white man shifted slightly towards Hiro, "Yes, before you interrupted I was mumbling to myself."

"Were you?" Hiro gave an internal sigh. He's been saddled with a weirdo.

"Yes, I was," the white man said, he reached out the hand that wasn't preoccupied, "Naoki, by the way."

"Um…Hiro," he shook Naoki's hand and watched as the strange young man turned back to face forward. Hiro let out a slight sigh, maybe he wouldn't talk?

Unfortunately, this was short-lived.

"There is a homicide case," Naoki started, "and the detective is unable to find anything. However, they have five suspects to work with-Samoa, Susie, Richard, Neil, and Jennifer. While investigating the crime scene, this detective notices something on the calendar. They are numbers circled within the month-9, 4, 5, 10, 8. This helped him figure out who the suspect was."

Naoki glanced over to Hiro, "So? Who do you think it is?"

Hiro stared at Naoki, unsure if he should take him seriously or not. After a moment, Hiro said, "That wasn't what you were mumbling to yourself."

"Is that right?" Naoki looked at him with steady eyes. "Nonetheless, please answer."

Hiro thought for a moment…and then another…and then another…and just when he was about to give up, something clicked. "Months."

"What about them?"

"Those numbers. They represent months," Hiro pulled out a pencil and a sheet of paper, scribbling down the months in a row, one below each other. "September, April, May, October, and August. The clue is in the first letter of each month. Together, they would spell "Samoa"…isn't that right?"

Hiro glanced up at Naoki, holding the sheet in front of him. The older man looked impressed, "Yes. Yes, that is quite right."

Hiro shoved the paper into his bag and tucked the pencil away, "So?"

"So what?"

"Are you going to tell me what you were actually whispering about? A homicide, probably, seeing as my words had distracted you from it," Hiro stared straight ahead, his dark brown eyes scanning the scenery in front of him.

"Hm…quite bright you are," was Naoki's response, "Very well. I suppose I'll tell you. I'm working on a case right now. An odd case. It's about a man and elderly people."

"…The one that was on the news recently?" Hiro looked over to him.

"Yes," Naoki nodded.

"…And what do you suspect?"

"Kira, possibly. Self-proclaimed," Naoki said.

"Impossible," Hiro shook his head.

"And why do you say that?"

"Sorry, not impossible that he's "self-proclaimed". More so that he's…so fake. Kira-at least the stories of him-depict his as righteous, despite his evil deeds. This man? What was his excuse? "Putting them out of their misery". That's not righteous. _That_ is naiveté."

There was a silence that seemed to surround the two. Both in the same bubble, yet at the same time there was a soft wall between them-one that could be easily punctured by both.

"That…yes. Quite correct," Naoki nodded, "That is exactly what I was thinking…what did you say your name was again?"

"Hiro. Hiro Saga."

"…How old are you?"

"Seventeen."

"Seventeen and so bright at this young age," Naoki stood, his stop nearing soon. He looked down towards Hiro with a small smile, "Don't ruin your life, okay?"

Hiro watched as Naoki slipped on his shoes and watched as the train door opened and watched as Naoki left the train.

Odd, that series of event was. Really odd. But wasn't odd enough. No, not yet. Not until Hiro got home.

"Hiro, Hiro!" his eight year old brother ran up to him along with his thirteen year old sister behind, "Guess what?"

Hiro picked up his little brother, Nagihiko, "What is it, Nagi?"

"Listen, listen! So earlier, dad came home and then he said he lost something!"

"Oh? What did he lose?" Hiro look towards Chiyo.

"He lost his badge," Chiyo answered. She crossed her arms and looked at Hiro, "Did you take it again, big brother?"

"Me?" Hiro laughed, sitting down on the couch and resting Nagihiko on his lap, "Why would I?"

"You did it when we were younger. For laughs," Chiyo answered.

Hiro rolled his eyes, "Chiyo, I am a senior in high school with a 4.0 grade average every year since I started school. I do not have time for such things."

"It doesn't matter because papa found it in the couch," Nagihiko laughed, "He's so silly!"

"Silly," Hiro smiled, "Yes, he is quite forgetful, isn't he?"

There was a pause in which Nagihiko fiddled with Hiro's school uniform and Chiyo sat down beside them, turning the television on.

"I wonder if there's anything interesting on the news," Chiyo mumbled, switching to a news channel.

There was something interesting. Very interesting. It was L.

"-_ever, "I won't get involved" is not reason enough to hijack the airwaves. Therefore, let me personally say one thing to the criminal. You are an abdominal murderer."_

Hiro switched the T.V. off and stood up, setting Nagihiko on the couch.

"Hey, I was watching that!" Chiyo protested as Hiro grabbed his bag.

"That nonsense about Kira? Really? Things like that will just rot your brain until you die," Hiro sighed. "So, what do you guys want to eat tonight?"

"Curry rice!" Nagihiko chimed.

Hiro looked at the pouting Chiyo, "Yeah, sure."

"Okay, curry rice it is."


	2. The Shinigami

A month. A whole, entire month had passed since Hiro had first picked up that strange black notebook and nothing had happened. Hiro hadn't even tried writing in it. Not a name marked those clean, yellowing pages and not even an eraser scuff could be found. In fact, Hiro had soon forgotten about the notebook; keeping it safely hidden inside his pillow for the month that he had acquired it.

But then, dreams and thoughts soon broke that peaceful dam Hiro had built, keeping those thoughts of murder and injustice away. Soon, Hiro began to remember…and soon _he_ came.

It started one cool, fall evening when Hiro had started coming home from school.

Dark and dreary, rain threatening to fall from the heavy gray clouds that blanketed his surroundings. It was the perfect time for the thought to come back to him. The thought of that thing. The "Death Note".

Eventually, Hiro's walking pace deteriorated and he slowed to a stop. His eyes were wide and his face was pale. How could he have _forgotten_? How could he forget about that strange occult notebook that rested inside his pillow every night? Of course, it was all good and well that he hadn't tested it out to see if it had been real, but…but now it was eating away at him.

Thoughts like "Maybe I should try it" or "perhaps I could rid the world of evil" started to float into his mind and circulate him, strangling his thoughts until he felt as if he couldn't breath.

_ I'll go home, _Hiro thought, _I'll go home and take a nap. I'll take a nap and forget all about this strange notebook once more. It'll be easy. I did it once. _

But obviously, there was a strange force that wouldn't let him.

When he got home, Hiro wasn't able to do as he had planned-no. Because _he_ was already waiting for him.

"Hiro!" called out his father.

Hiro turned slightly to see that smile that he hated so much. That smile that gave nothing and asked for all.

"Yes?"

"How were the extra classes? You doing well?"

Hiro pulled out his test scores and tossed them onto the table, "One hundred."

"That's my boy! Perfect as always."

Hiro thanked his father and without another word, walked upstairs and closed the door to his room.

It was dark in there but Hiro could make out a shape. And the shape wasn't that of his younger brother nor his younger sister. An odd shape with a skeletal outline.

"You're odd, aren't you?" asked a husky and gravely voice. "You didn't write a single thing in here."

Hiro turned and locked the door, flicking on the lights to find the face that watched him was one that bore a skeleton's face with red glowing orbs, etched into it's eye sockets.

"You…what are you?" Hiro questioned, moving towards the wall closest to him and furthest away from the strange creature.

"A Shinigami," it replied.

The "Shinigami" stood, hunched over in appearance. His strange brown hair was spiked up, seemingly tied back by a grungy red tie, a pair of goggles resting on his head below. He wore a messenger bag over his shoulder, as well as a strange jacket that seemed to have blood stains on it. And on his back was a strange, scythe. When the Shinigami moved closer, it limped in a way that seemed as if he had been shot several times and those wounds never healed.

"Tsuki," it's voice rang in Hiro's head, "That's my name."

"Tsuki…like, moon?" Hiro stared at it and watched as it's large, apple red eyes wandered the room.

"Yes, actually. Like the moon," Tsuki replied, it's skeletal smile showing true and obvious amusement. "And yours? What is your name?"

"…do you need to know?" Hiro looked directly into those glowing eyes, "You should know, right? You're a god, afterall."

"Hiro Saga," Tsuki mused, "Strange. If an English speaker heard it, they'd think your name mean a "heroic novel"."

"A play on words, done well by my late mother," was Hiro's response, easing slightly and sitting down at his desk. "So, why are you here? To take back that…notebook?"

"No, I've been caught up in my own things so I decided I should check up on you. Only to find you haven't written a single word," Tsuki flipped through the notebook, "Have you even read it?"

"Yes, I have," replied Hiro, pulling out a pen from his cup, "I've read it and I had decided I wouldn't try."

"And why is that? No mere human can resist this temptation," Tsuki held up the notebook so that the cover faced Hiro.

Hiro leaned back in his chair, "Then maybe, I'm not just a "mere" human."

"Oh? Interesting," Tsuki sat back down on Hiro's bed, "And you're taking this all so calmly as well."

"This?"

"That a Shinigami has come to visit you."

"I have done nothing wrong, except pick up that notebook," Hiro pointed towards the black book in Tsuki's hand, "The only thing I had done to it, was read it. There is nothing I shouldn't be calm about."

"Smart kid. You're smart," a strange chuckle-like sound came from the death god.

"But tell me," Hiro leaned against his thighs, hands cupped in front of him, "What would happen if I do use it?"

"So…now you're debating?"

"Well," Hiro leaned back in his chair once more, "Seeing as you've graciously come all the way down to the human world to see me…why not?"

Tsuki stared at Hiro and then finally said, "The consequences of you using it…is that I will write your name in my Death Note when you die. And when you die, you will neither go to Heaven nor to Hell. It will be nothing."

Hiro sat there, staring at the spot above Tsuki. After a moment he nodded, standing up with an outstretched hand, "Give it here."

"What?"

"The notebook."

Tsuki handed the Death Note over to Hiro and Hiro sat down at his desk, pen in hand. He grabbed the remote control to his television his room and switched it on.

"Oh, the television?"

"Of course," was Hiro's prompt response, "Do you expect me to kill a family member to see if this works?"

Tsuki nodded in understanding, "You came to that conclusion quite fast."

"Did I? Maybe I inherited my mother's reckless mind," Hiro replied as he switched to the news channel.

The two figures turned towards the dimly glowing television set and watched as a chaos unfolded before them. A burning building with a manic at the top, child in hand. If the manic dies of a heart attack now, the child will fall as well.

"So, what are you going to do?"

"…can I…add actions to the victim?" Hiro looked over at Tsuki.

"Actions?"

"Something like…"put down the child before committing suicide". Is that possible?" Hiro questioned.

"From what I've heard recently, yes. It is possible," Tsuki nodded.

A small smile spread onto Hiro's lips, "Perfect."

Tsuki watched with interest as Hiro scribbled down the man's name and the instructions as well as the way he dies. Jumping off the burning building.

"Ruthless, you are," Tsuki commented.

"A heart attack or a burning building," Hiro sat back, twirling his pen. He looked towards the shinigami, "Which would you choose?"

"….the heart attack."

"Then I made the right decision," Hiro replied, "People like that…dragging someone down with them…they don't deserve to live."

"Like I said, ruthless," Tsuki mumbled.

Nearly a minute has passed, the whole progression went by slowly. The seconds dragged until finally-the culprit ran off the edge of the building and fell with a blood curdling _splat_.

"…hm, I figured he'd do it calmly," Hiro turned the television off and stretched.

"I figured you wouldn't be as calm," said Tsuki, watching the young Japanese man.

"What's there not to be calm about?" Hiro held up the Death Note, "I have the power of a death god at the tap of my fingers…"

"You realize that by having a Shinigami by your side, you're ensure bad luck?"

"Ensured?" Hiro chuckled, "I've had it since I was born."

"If you're truly sure, then why not?" Tsuki chuckled. He held out his skeletal hand, "You now have a Shinigami on your side."


End file.
